Who, How, and Why
by Wilusa
Summary: My humble attempt, without having read 'inside' info or others' ideas, at a followup that explains the cliffhanger ending. I don't presume to think I've hit on the explanation the show's writers actually intended!
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: One Life to Live and its characters are the property of ABC; no copyright infringement is intended.

x

x

x

John McBain was tired, frustrated, and thoroughly disgusted.

When he'd arrested Todd Manning on the charge of murdering Victor Lord Jr. (not mentioning, at that point, the additional charges he'd face), Todd had made no attempt to deny it. Then and later, the only words he'd uttered were mumbled repetitions of "I'm sorry." With his head down, refusing to meet anyone's eyes.

The horrified Blair had understood at once that he was guilty. As she said later, his whole demeanor had indicated that while he hadn't expected an arresting officer to burst into her bedroom, he'd known the arrest would come. Someday.

Blair was crushed, shattered, devastated...whatever extreme word John could think of, it fit. She was so ashamed of having believed Tomas's "confession" (when both John and Tea had seen through it), and of having taken Todd into her bed, that she was refusing even to see Tomas. When he, head over heels in love with her, wanted only to take her in his arms and console her.

Both Tomas and Tea were furious with John, because what they saw as his "stalling" had enabled Todd to have his way with Blair.

He couldn't blame them.

On top of that, Viki - while just as shocked as everyone else at what Todd had done - had felt sorry for him, and pleaded for his release on bail. Over DA Nora's objections, a judge had granted her request.

And _of course_, Todd had jumped bail and fled. Leaving Viki another person wracked by guilt.

The Llanview police still had Malcolm Baker in custody, charged with the unlawful imprisonment of Tomas and with having forced him at gunpoint to make that false "confession." The FBI couldn't claim jurisdiction, because the charges didn't include the Federal crime of kidnapping. (Tomas had gone voluntarily to the place where he'd been taken prisoner.) But John knew in his gut that sooner or later, the CIA would step in and spring Baker, citing "national security." They believed Irene Manning's organization had possessed evidence of their past wrongdoing...and Baker might still have it, or know where it was. They wouldn't risk its coming to light.

So now, John was left with the one task that might leave him with some sense of accomplishment. Nabbing the sole remaining escaped convict: Allison Perkins.

He knew the woman was dangerous. But even so, he wouldn't have given her apprehension this high a priority if it hadn't been the only constructive thing he could think of to do.

The jurisdictional issue was tricky. Statesville Prison was operated by the state, so the actual prison break was a state issue. Theoretically, it was none of the Llanview PD's business. But the crime Allison had committed after her escape - shooting Viki - did fall under their jurisdiction. So prison officials were allowing John a good deal of latitude in questioning the convict he was staring down.

Dr. Troy MacIver.

MacIver said, "Look, I helped save Bo Buchanan's life..."

"Yes. After _you'd_ shot him."

"Well, there is that. But..."

"_And_ you walked out on Nora before he regained consciousness." John shook his head. "Lindsay turned herself in for the sake of requesting that ambulance Bo had asked for, without even understanding why it was needed. You put your chance to get away ahead of anything else.

"So don't think for a minute that you'll get an early parole hearing if you don't cooperate with me."

_Of course, you won't get one even if you do cooperate. But hey, it's not my fault if you make a wrong assumption!_

MacIver said, "I can't help you, anyway. I don't know anything about Allison Perkins."

"Sure you do," John said evenly. "The one thing that's certain about this prison break is that the three people at the heart of it were you, Mitch Laurence, and Allison Perkins. Laurence seemed to be the ringleader. But both you and Perkins have claimed to be the real brains behind it.

"What I do know is that male and female prisoners are segregated. But you - a doctor, working in the infirmary - saw both. You were the link between Mitch and Allison. Whichever of the three of you concocted the escape plan, Mitch recruited a lot of male would-be escapees, Allison a lot of women.

"So the three of you had to be close. It's a safe bet Mitch and Allison - his 'disciple' - meant to meet up on the outside, whether or not they actually did. And whether or not you planned to join them, you'd been transmitting their messages. So you know _where_ they intended to meet up."

"I tell you, I _don't_ know! If they ever exchanged that kind of information through me, it must have been in some kind of code. That the other one would understand, but I wouldn't."

MacIver looked so frustrated that John had a sinking feeling. _Damn it, he's telling the truth._

But then MacIver said, "There is...something else I know. It might or might not be a help to you. If I can be assured of that parole hearing..."

John said smoothly, "No one can guarantee a parole hearing without knowing the information is valuable. Whether it will actually lead us to Allison Perkins."

More carefully worded language. No _promise_ of a parole hearing, under any circumstances.

MacIver nodded. "Okay," he said reluctantly. "I'll tell you.

"First, I have to admit I was sort of...bragging, when I told Nora I'd had enough knowledge of the power grid to bring it down. The truth is, no inmate could have figured that out. It required someone's having way more computer access than any of us did - and being a skilled hacker, to boot. So it had to be a person on the outside.

"The real mastermind. The guy who suggested the whole thing to Mitch, memorized everything we needed to know and passed it on to him."

John went rigid._ My God. We should have seen that. __**Known**__ there had to be someone on the outside!_

This was valuable information in itself, he realized. It might lead them to _some_ dangerous criminal, even if not to Allison.

Trying not to show how very interested he was, he asked, "But how did this guy on the outside communicate with Mitch?"

"Visited him, at least a half-dozen times. Starting in late November. He was allowed to see Mitch because he was a close relative. Mitch said the guy was his brother."

"Miles Laurence?" John was startled. The last he knew, Mitch's one surviving brother had been leading an honest, refreshingly normal life.

MacIver shook his head. "No, that wasn't the name. Something like Walter...no, _Walker_. I remember that the name Walker Laurence struck me as familiar, but I'm not sure where I'd heard it before...

"Anyway, Mitch said this brother of his had betrayed him in the past. But now he regretted it, realized Mitch really was the 'Messenger,' or some damn-fool thing like that. So Walker wanted to make amends by helping Mitch break out of prison.

"I think including _everyone_ who wanted to break out was Mitch's idea -

"Hey, where are you going?"

John was already halfway out the door. "You've been a big help!" he called back to MacIver.

_Except that now, I'm so confused that I wouldn't be surprised if I saw the sun setting in the east._

x

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x

Five minutes later John was sitting across the desk from the prison's Chief of Security. Richard Evans - father of Shaun.

_I'm glad this guy's a friend, not just a professional contact. He knows me well enough that he won't write me off as a nutcase._

Trying to keep his voice steady, John said, "Richard...you people were letting Mitch Laurence see a visitor? A guy who said he was his brother Walker?"

"Yes." Before John could even ask what the man looked like, Evans continued, "Of course, looking at that brother gave everyone here the creeps! He was a ringer for Victor Lord Jr. The _late_ Victor Lord Jr.

"But everyone who'd been around Llanview for a while remembered the story. How Todd-slash-Victor had plastic surgery to make himself look like this Walker Laurence, so he could get close to Mitch and try to get revenge. Or something like that. Obviously, there was a real Walker Laurence. We probably would have accepted him even if he hadn't shown ID - which he did.

"Are you thinking he helped with the escape, somehow? Guards always searched him - he didn't smuggle anything in."

"What he smuggled in was in his head." John was shaking his own head. "Information. He'd memorized it, and if Mitch didn't have writing materials, he memorized it too. Mitch's 'brother' was - in Troy MacIver's words - the actual 'mastermind' behind the escape.

"But that's not the main issue here. Richard...Walker Laurence is _dead!_ He's been dead for more than eight years.

"Absolutely, indisputably, dead. _I saw his body_."

_And come to think of it, I never saw Victor's..._

John guessed that if Evans hadn't been a dark-skinned black man, his face would have turned several interesting colors as he thought through the implications of what he'd just heard.

At last Evans said tightly, "You claim you're sure of this. Explain."

John nodded. "Like I said, he died over eight years ago. I'm not surprised you didn't know about it. It was only in the news for a day or two, even then.

"And the real Walker Laurence actually went by his middle name, Flynn. So the reports of his death identified him as Flynn Laurence.

"He died in a so-called 'freak accident,' that I've always believed was...something else. Remember the penthouse the Manning family used to live in? Laurence stepped into the elevator at the penthouse level. And instead of descending gradually, the elevator 'malfunctioned' - fell like a rock, all the way to the bottom of the shaft. For a person in it, it was like falling off the roof. He was killed instantly, by the impact.

"I've always believed the man we now know as Victor killed him. Rigged the elevator. But there was no proof...and in any case, it may have been a kill-or-be-killed situation. The 'victim' was a crook, who got what he deserved.

"Here's the bottom line. The only way Walker Laurence could have been alive after that date was if _Victor_ had actually died in the elevator, and Laurence had been successfully impersonating Todd Manning all these years. That would always have seemed wildly unlikely. And last summer, Victor's DNA proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was Todd's twin.

"_Is_ Todd's twin."

The silence stretched out.

Finally, Evans said, "All right. Let's say Victor Lord Jr. is somehow, magically, alive. Why the hell would he have wanted to bust Mitch Laurence out of prison?"

"I haven't the faintest idea."

x

x

x

As John drove back to Llanview, he thought about the odd things that had come to light after Victor's "death."

Well, they'd come _partially_ to light...

Victor's personal physician, his minister, and the local funeral director had quickly informed Tea that he'd left handwritten instructions with all three of them, back in 2004, about what he wanted done in the event of his death. Specifically: he didn't want _anyone_ other than the necessary medical and mortuary professionals to see his dead body.

He'd believed his enemies would come to a public viewing and feign respect, while they were really gloating. But beyond that...at the time of his death, he might have young children or, hopefully, grandchildren. The sight of his dead body might be traumatic for them; but if other family members were looking at it, it would be hard to refuse them. Above all, he thought of a dead body as merely an "empty shell," and he didn't want his loved ones to have that as their last memory of him.

The upshot was that there'd been a closed coffin. Not even Tea had seen Victor's body after he'd seemingly died in her arms. None of their kin were suspicious, with his wishes having been on record for years.

If it had been only that, not even John would have suspected there'd been something stranger than they already knew about Victor.

But there was something else: the outrageous will that left his entire estate to "my mother, Irene Manning." Quite aside from the issue of what Victor would have wanted to do with his money, he shouldn't have known Irene was _alive_ at the time that will was written.

The family had assumed the will was a fake. At the time, they'd been too distraught to think deeply about it, let alone conduct an investigation. But John _had_ thought about it - and investigated.

He'd learned that the will was authentic. Not only that: even the first will prepared by Victor, in 2004, had left everything to Irene! He'd talked about changing his will several times over the years, as his family situation changed. Every time, he visited his estate lawyer and fussed and fretted for hours over the wording. When he left, he always seemed to think he'd changed something. But he never had. Everything still went to Irene.

John had gone to Bo with the weird discovery he'd made. They'd been forced to conclude that Victor had either been in league with Irene all along, or been so brainwashed that he'd done things he wouldn't have chosen to do - and probably hadn't remembered after doing them.

Both men inclined to the latter view. They'd disliked Victor. But they were sure he loved Tea, and all four of "his" children. They couldn't envision his having lived a lie with his family all those years, knowing he wasn't the real Todd Manning.

Taken together, the wills and the death instructions had sinister implications. Irene had known that if Victor died, she'd inherit his fortune. All she'd have to do was come to Llanview, prove her identity, and claim it. And by making it fairly easy to snatch him and fake his death, she'd given herself a way to appropriate that fortune quickly, if she was ever in a hurry for it. Never mind how Victor might have felt, at being whisked away from his family!

Neither Bo nor John had suspected that in _this_ situation, Victor might not be dead. There was no doubt he'd been shot and gravely wounded. And Tea had been with him when he had, to all appearances, died.

Soon afterward, Irene herself was dead. No longer a threat to anyone. The Manning fortune wound up in the hands of what seemed to be - under the circumstances - the right person, Todd.

So Bo and John had seen no need to share their unpleasant discovery with Tea.

But now it was clear that they should have considered the possibility of a faked death. Undoubtedly faked without Victor's knowledge and consent - if he'd been clinging to life at the time, he _must_ have been in a coma!

Bo was now a civilian. And there wasn't even an Acting Commissioner; Mayor Finn had offered the post to three men, and they'd all declined. To all intents and purposes, John was running the department.

He was on his own. But he had no doubt where he should go next.

_To the place Victor was taken, even though he was "known" to be past saving. Where the autopsy would have been performed...where some damned idiots let him be kidnapped. _

_The hospital._

x

x

x

Soon he was locking horns with a doctor/medical examiner he barely knew, named Malone. _Wish my brother was still on staff here..._

For the better part of a half hour, Malone kept insisting that Victor Lord Jr. had been DOA. There'd been an autopsy, which confirmed the obvious, that it was a homicide due to a gunshot wound. Nothing irregular had taken place, nothing!

At last John said wearily, "Okay, Doctor. I know why you're keeping up this act.

"Let me tell you what I think happened. While you were preparing for that autopsy, you were confronted by a half-dozen or so tough guys who showed what appeared to be CIA credentials. They did some ominous mumbling about 'national security,' insisted on observing what you were doing.

"Then something happened that surprised all of you - though the 'CIA' guys may have been there to watch for it, just in case. Because the corpse had been moved around and jostled so much, there was now a flicker of life!

"Victor wasn't brain-dead after all, not quite. He'd resumed breathing, but the breaths were probably so shallow that they'd gone unnoticed for hours. He must have been bleeding, too - but if his heart was pumping weakly, he wouldn't have lost much additional blood. In that situation, you couldn't ethically have withheld treatment and let him die, even though you thought he'd probably wind up in a vegetative state.

"But the 'CIA' guys insisted you perform emergency surgery to remove the bullet and so forth, then cooperate in faking his death, while _they_ spirited him away to a secure, private medical facility. For his safety and that of his loved ones, they said, since whoever had shot him was still at large. The faked death would be easy to pull off, because of certain instructions he himself had left with the necessary people.

"I'm sure no one bribed you. They wouldn't have needed to. They told you it was a matter of 'national security,' right? That you'd be serving your country?"

Malone didn't answer. But he didn't have to. He looked like a scared rabbit. And that look told John everything he needed to know.

x

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x

There was a chance, he thought, that the interlopers really had been the CIA. Running around trying to clean up messes Irene Manning had made, because they felt responsible. It didn't seem likely, considering the bizarre things Victor had been doing lately...but still, he made a call to a CIA contact to rule it out.

And did rule it out. Absolutely.

_So like I feared, it was Irene's outfit. Damn!_

Malcolm Baker was still in the Llanview PD's lockup. John took another stab at questioning him. But as he'd expected, the man stonewalled. "I was in Federal custody at the time, remember? And Irene was right here in your jail. There no longer _was_ any 'organization,' at least none that I'm aware of."

_There was, and there still is, you bastard._

But browbeating the maddeningly composed Baker wouldn't do him any good. Back in his office, he realized he was stymied.

_Even if Irene's gang is responsible for whatever's happened to Victor, why the hell would they have wanted the prison break? I can't see any connection._

His brooding was interrupted by his cell phone. And when he looked at it, the display was the last thing he wanted to see.

**Tea Calling.**

_Oh God, no! What am I going to say to her? Should I keep it to myself for now, let her go on believing Victor's dead?_

Considering how angry she'd been over the Todd-and-Blair fiasco, he was surprised she was calling him at all.

But he had to answer. "Uh - hello?"

"John? Please - I know I've been acting like a bitch, but I need your help! Desperately! Oh God, I can't believe this..." He could tell she was crying. "Oh God...I don't know what to believe...what to _do_..."

"Tea! I'm here, I'll help, whatever it is!... Tea?"

He heard her sobbing.

Then another voice came on the line. Even this one was shaky. "John, it's Tomas. I'm sorry about the way I've been acting, too.

"The problem is, Tea got a letter in the mail today. Someone's claiming Victor's alive. They say they're holding him, and they're demanding a million-dollar ransom!"

John took a deep breath.

Then he said, "My God...that's a stunner." And yes, it really _was_ the last thing he'd been expecting. "Whatever the explanation, there's one more piece of information I need right now. You said the ransom demand was made in a letter. What's the postmark?"

Tomas had the answer immediately. "Philadelphia."

"Okay, thanks. Now...are you two at Tea's place?"

"Yes."

"Hold the fort. I'll be right over!"


	2. Chapter 2

Before leaving the station, John hastily filled in a wide-eyed Natalie, Theo Price, and Oliver Fish. Assigned Fish to a task he could start working on immediately, with help from Natalie (though it wasn't her normal line of work), and as many other staffers as he'd need. With Natalie backing Fish up, no one would doubt that John had ordered it. But he instructed them to tell the others no more than was absolutely necessary.

As for Price, he was to await further instructions that might be urgent - and time-sensitive. If called upon to do so, he should be prepared to take several other plainclothes officers with him. _Where_, John currently had no idea.

He didn't tell any of them where _he_ expected to go after seeing Tea. When he left, Natalie merely squeezed his hand and said, "Take care." To his enormous relief, she wasn't behaving like either his anxious lover or Victor's anxious niece. She was all business, a dedicated police professional.

In his car, he tried to organize his thoughts. Reconsider the wisdom of his guesses.

_Knowing all I do, I can be sure Victor is with either what I'll think of as the Manning-Baker Mob, or Allison Perkins. I can't see any reason why __**all**__ of them would be together._

_And no matter who Victor's with, I have to recognize there's a fifty-fifty chance that he's so brainwashed - or by this point, just plain crazy - that he's with them voluntarily. Actively participating in this scheme to extort a million dollars from his wife._

_I doubt it's the Mob. For three reasons._

_First: I think Baker's become their head honcho, and he hasn't been able to give them any orders recently. It isn't likely they'd pull a stunt this big without orders from the top._

_Second: It's not their m.o. to call attention to their existence in the U.S. by doing attention-getting things here. They held Patrick Thornhart hostage for years, in hopes some Irish group would pay a ransom for him - when they had to know Marty had wealthy friends like the Buchanans, who would gladly have paid more. A kidnapping-for-ransom of Victor Lord Jr. - whose previous "murder" had been a national news story - would have made huge headlines after the fact, whether or not he survived._

_Third: If they __**were**__ going to change their m.o. and do such a thing, they would have known enough about Victor's connections to ask for way more than a million dollars!_

_So I'll assume it's Allison. And I have an advantage over her, because she almost certainly doesn't think anyone will suspect her. Since no one's issued a BOLO for "Walker Laurence," she thinks they got away with it - we haven't realized he played a role in the prison break, never even noticed a man using that name had visited Mitch._

_So she won't expect us to make any connection between Victor's being alive, and the prison break. Between Victor and __**her**__._

Yes, he was sure all that made sense.

Now he'd just have to hope Fish could...well, succeed in his "fishing."

_And beyond that,_ he thought grimly, _I'll have to keep most of what I know from Tea and Tomas. For now. Damn it - this mess may end in heartbreak for Tea, even if I do find her husband alive and physically well._

He pulled up at her door. As he got out of the car, he couldn't help imagining how it must have been on that rainy night when Todd had stood there, gun in hand, and spotted those infernal _keys_ on the ground, just waiting for him...

A still-weeping Tea opened the door, and he hugged her before they went in.

x

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x

The ransom letter had been composed - as he'd expected - on a computer, and printed. No handwriting, no real "signature" of any kind.

But on reading it, John could almost _see_ Allison Perkins.

_Ms. Delgado:_

_As you can see from the enclosed photo, we have your husband. Alive, and in good condition. But he certainly is a nasty creature! Whenever we take the gag out of his mouth, he spits at us. How rude!_

_If you want him, you're welcome to him. For the paltry sum of one million dollars. In cash! Unmarked bills!_

_If you do not comply, we __will__ kill him. Believe me, we aren't queasy about killing people._

_If, on the other hand, you do exactly as we say, we'll release him unharmed. We don't have a personal grudge against either of you. Despite your husband's atrocious manners. Or lack thereof._

_Put the money in a suitcase and take it to Angel Square at midnight Friday night. (Or 12:00 a.m. Saturday, if you prefer to think of it that way.) Place it near the fountain, and __leave__._

_Do not inform the police!_

_If the person we send to pick up the money does not return to us with it - and with no sign of his having been followed - your husband will be killed. Possibly in a very unpleasant way. Because he's an unpleasant man._

Under other circumstances, John would have found the letter amusing.

He didn't believe for a minute that there was more than one captor. Or that the "person sent to pick up the money" would be male.

But he wasn't about to tell Tea or Tomas that.

It disturbed him that a lone woman might have been able to overpower Victor. If he _wasn't_ in cahoots with her, might he be ill or injured?

He wouldn't be sharing that concern with the family either.

Of course, Allison might simply have drugged Victor. Or caught him by surprise and conked him over the head.

It was already Friday afternoon. So they didn't have much time...

He took a look at the photo. Undoubtedly Victor, bound and gagged and looking angry. In the time-honored kidnapper's style, Allison had posed him with Wednesday's issue of the _Sun_.

Ironically, the tabloid's front page featured a blown-up mug shot of _Todd_. The headline screamed: "**WANTED:** SCARFACE aka TODD MANNING!"

Though it couldn't be seen clearly in the photo, John remembered what had appeared that day in the upper left corner of the front page. It always showed a small image of the publisher. Most recently, Todd.

Wednesday, Todd's picture had been replaced by one of a wrathful-looking _Jack_ Manning. And yesterday, the boy publisher had defiantly resumed featuring _Victor_.

Tea asked in a shaky voice, "D-do you think the photo's a f-fake, John?" With an effort, she continued more steadily, "You know what I mean. An old photo of Victor's face superimposed on one of another man, and the image of the gag superimposed on that?"

_"No,"_ he said decisively. "I have a good eye for fakery in photos, and there's no sign of it here. Incredible as it seems, I'm sure this is really Victor, alive, two days ago."

_Of course, I wouldn't be so damned "sure" if I hadn't already known he's alive._

"Thank God," she murmured.

He looked back at the letter, and commented, "I'm glad you didn't follow their instruction not to tell the police."

She said, "With Bo gone...if _you_ hadn't still been there, we wouldn't have called them. We've given you such a hard time...but believe me, we know you're the best."

John shuddered. _If we hadn't learned the truth about Liam, Natalie and I would never have reconciled. And I would have moved to Seattle..._

But he hadn't saved the day. Not yet. _And if it turns out I can't, I might as well be in Seattle._

Tomas cleared his throat - a polite way to get John's attention.

_He's certainly on his best behavior! I think I like him better when he isn't._

Tomas said, "I know we don't have time to fuss over things like DNA on the envelope seal. But fingerprints, maybe? On the letter or the photo?"

"No. It's a good idea, but we don't have time even for that." _And I don't want you to know whose fingerprints they are._

"Okay. I see that. Another thing I was thinking...in countries where ransom kidnappings are more common, simply _paying the damn ransom_ often works. The hostages are usually freed, unharmed."

"Yes, I know. But there isn't the same...tradition here in the U.S. Kidnappers don't feel the same need to abide by the rules."

Tomas sighed. "So what do you suggest?"

"I think we _should_ get the ransom together," John told him. "Or as much of it as we can. I just don't intend to rely solely on that.

"Tea...I know you have a successful law practice. And successful friends. _Can_ you come up with a million in cash on such short notice?"

"Yes," she said immediately. "I've been thinking about it. If I can't put together that much on my own, I'm sure I can turn to Viki. And Clint."

"Good. Work on that. I need to make a phone call to the station. And...while I can't say much about it right now, there's a lead I may be able to follow up on later."

Making sure neither Tea nor Tomas was within earshot, he called Price. "Okay, Theo, here's where the drop will be. The fountain in Angel Square, at midnight. Get your men there early. Out of sight...in doorways.

"I still have no reason to doubt the person coming for the cash will be Allison Perkins. This amateurish way of having the ransom delivered is just what I'd expect of her." An outfit as sophisticated as Irene's would have demanded the funds be wired to a numbered bank account outside the U.S.

"If I can learn more later - what she'll be wearing, and so forth - I'll call and let you know. But I don't think you'll have trouble 'picking her out,' in Angel Square at midnight! Even on a Friday night!"

x

x

x

Less than an hour later, he received a phone call from Fish. "Got it!" the young officer said exuberantly.

"Already? Unbelievable!"

John had told his people to use computers, phones, every tool they could think of, to check out locations where newcomers or transients might be staying in Philadelphia and its suburbs. Beginning with mid- and upscale city hotels, but moving on, if necessary, to everything from flophouses to rental homes.

Searching for the current abode of one Walker Laurence.

He'd guessed that if Allison - or Victor, if he was calling the shots - felt sure no one in Llanview had seen a connection between him, mysteriously still alive, and the prison break, they would have thought that long-ago alias of his was a safe name to use. And they would have picked it, rather than a name with _no_ associations, for the sheer fun of "getting away with something."

_Win some, lose some, Allison._

"We didn't have to get as far as the flophouses," Fish reported. Sounding a bit disappointed. He named one of Philly's most respectable old hotels. "They're in a two-bedroom suite, no less. And they've been there since the Saturday after New Year's. Paying in cash!"

John hadn't expected any more information than that. But Fish wasn't through.

"I had a nice chat with the desk clerk. She told me they checked in as 'Walker Laurence and companion.' At that time, the man was taking the lead. She described him as brusque and arrogant. Doesn't that sound just like you-know-who?

"But get this. _Since_ then, they've never been seen leaving the suite - till a couple days ago, when the woman went down to the lobby to buy a copy of the _Sun_. She was seen in the lobby again an hour or so later, mailing a letter.

"They keep a 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the door, don't let the cleaning staff in. They take all their meals from room service. And it's always the _woman_ who places the orders, and comes to the door to get the meals!"

"Sheesh!" John was shaking his head. "If Victor's really a prisoner, I hope she's at least feeding the poor guy.

"You've gone above and beyond the call of duty, Fish. However did you get all that?"

Fish chuckled. "Well, let's just say my partner Kyle wouldn't be too happy if he knew about all my phone-flirting with that female desk clerk."

"Fish, you're a naughty boy. And one hell of a cop." John wasn't kidding when he continued, "However this turns out, I'm going to recommend you for a promotion."

"Uh, I don't think there's any senior officer you can recommend me _to!_"

"Yeah, there is that little problem..."

x

x

x

John had stayed out of the Delgados' earshot while he was talking to Fish. Now he told them, "I'm heading out. Obviously, where I'm going has to do with this case. But I don't think I should say any more than that."

Tomas said, "I want to go with you."

_So that's why he's been so polite and agreeable all afternoon!_

"No, Tomas," he said firmly. "I'm armed, and I'll be able to handle any problems I run into. I want _you_ to stay here and go to Angel Square with Tea tonight. These kidnappers" - _yes, refer to them in the plural_ - "didn't say she has to go alone. And I'll feel a lot more comfortable about her safety if you're with her."

That was actually true, despite the fact there'd be a half-dozen cops on the scene. Allison was just as likely to be armed as he was. And she'd recently shot Viki for no reason at all.

Tea clutched at Tomas. "Please, _hermano_. Stay with me!"

Getting it from both sides, Tomas gave in.

And John headed for Philadelphia.


	3. Chapter 3

By the time John arrived at the Philadelphia hotel, he knew Allison must have left for Llanview. She wouldn't have wanted a suitcase containing the hoped-for million dollars to be left unattended for more than a few minutes.

But he faced a dilemma. With his skills, he could undoubtedly break into "Walker Laurence's" suite. If he could be sure he'd be rescuing a bound and gagged Victor, with no one else on the scene, that would be the best course of action. Discreet - causing the least possible further trauma for the victim.

But if Victor _wasn't_ a victim - if he'd been Allison's partner in the plot - he might see John and start shooting!

And there was a third possibility. Assuming Victor was a prisoner...John thought it most likely Allison was working alone. But he couldn't be sure. It wasn't inconceivable that she'd been in contact, somehow, with the Manning-Baker Mob. And if she had, there could be a half-dozen armed goons guarding Victor.

So he couldn't simply barge in. He had to consider not only Victor's safety, but that of other hotel guests.

If he involved the Philadelphia police, they'd send a SWAT team. And he believed the situation that called for discretion was the most likely.

So he came up with another plan.

He knew he couldn't pose as a Philadelphia cop. His Llanview PD badge couldn't be mistaken for anything else. But he had a backup...something he'd hung onto in case he was ever in a situation where using it would be the only solution.

He was still carrying, very illicitly, his decade-old _FBI_ ID.

He showed that at the hotel's registration desk, and said he needed to speak with the person in charge of Hotel Security. Then he rattled off a cock-and-bull story about an ill-conceived "prank" that had probably resulted in someone's being trapped, bound and gagged, in one of their suites. Why was the FBI involved? Because the "prank" had included what was technically a kidnapping. It was just an annoying nuisance - he was eager to get it over and done with. So...could the hotel let him into that suite? With a few armed Hotel Security people accompanying him, on the _extreme_ off-chance there might be some sort of danger? If there wasn't, he'd be able to let them know immediately, and they could leave. No fuss, no muss.

The hotel staff bought into it completely. As he'd expected, they were just as anxious to avoid a public uproar as he was.

It was only when he and his Security team were headed for the suite that he realized there was something he hadn't thought of.

Perhaps, in the flurry of necessary decision-making, he hadn't let himself think of it. But now he was moments away from walking into that suite...

_And what I find may be Victor's dead body!_

_Allison's a completely loose cannon. It would be just like her to have killed him before going to pick up the ransom. To have left here with no intention of coming back._

_It will kill Tea if she's lost him all over again! Without even a chance, this time, to say goodbye..._

_And the people I have with me are a bunch of amateurs. I had no right to do this to them, to put them in a situation where they may walk in and see a murdered man, for the first time in their lives..._

He found himself facing the door. Steadied himself with an effort, and went through the necessary routine of knocking.

And he thought he heard a muffled sound from within. Just the kind of sound that _could_ be made by a bound and gagged person trying desperately to be heard...

_God, let me not have imagined that!_

He used the passkey he'd been given. Opened the door. Stepped inside.

_Unmistakable_ sounds were coming from a bedroom. He rushed in. Gun in hand, just in case...

And saw a very much alive Victor in the bed. Victor was struggling against his bonds, looking as if _he_ was mad enough to kill someone.

John could finally take a deep breath. He gestured to the men at his heels to back out.

"It's okay," he told them. "Check the rest of the suite, make sure no one else is in here. Then you can leave.

"I'll take care of the victim."

x

x

x

He'd decided not to do anything till the hotel staffers left. He didn't want them to hear any outburst from Victor, who might blurt out things he wouldn't want repeated. They were gone in less than a minute; but even that delay had brought the frustrated Victor close to tears.

"Take it easy," John said gently. "Are you okay, Victor? Do you recognize me?"

An impatient nod.

"Okay." John had thought of making a joke. Saying, "I want you to know that if you spit at me when I take this gag out of your mouth, I'll spit right back." But as he saw the anguish in the other man's eyes, he knew it wouldn't be appropriate.

He just took the gag out.

And Victor immediately began yelling at him._ "__**Tea! **__**Is Tea all right?**__ Don't let that crazy bitch Allison near her!"_

"Calm down, calm down!" John was trying to get the pajama-clad Victor untied, but he seemed to be waging a losing battle. Victor was too agitated to hold still. "Tea's fine, perfectly safe. No one's going to hurt her.

"I need you to tell me -"

_"I want to talk to Tea!" _The tears were flowing in earnest now.

John had finally gotten Victor free of his bonds. "You can do that soon," he promised.

"But I _need_ you to tell me this. Was Allison the only person who was here with you? There wasn't any guard who's gone out for a smoke or something, and might come back?"

Victor was finally paying enough attention to grasp the significance of the question. He caught his breath, made an obvious effort to pull himself together, and said, "No guard. It was just Allison."

"Okay. That's good. Now tell me, are you hurt in any way? I can see the rope burns - anything else?"

"No. I'm not...hurt. But...but...nothing makes _sense!_" The eyes that met John's were deeply troubled. "H-how did you know where I was? How did you know about Allison?"

"Just good, solid police work," John said, trying to make it sound routine.

Victor still seemed puzzled. He hesitated, then said softly, "McBain? I hate...admitting this...to you. _Especially...you._

"But...there's something wrong with me. In my head. I'm all mixed up. I don't know how I got here! I was just _here_, with Allison. And she kept making fun of me. Joking about..about...how many of my marbles I'm missing!"

John hadn't meant to cut in, but at that point he couldn't help saying, "That sounds like Allison. Believe me, she's missing quite a few of her own."

Then he asked, "What _do_ you remember, Victor? From before you were here with Allison?"

_He hasn't questioned my calling him "Victor," so he at least knows he isn't Todd Manning._

Victor's eyes were downcast now. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he seemed to be talking to himself. "I remember being shot. And Tea being there with me. I thought I was dying..." A slow shake of the head. "After that...I know time passed. For a while, there was a lot of pain. But everything seems..._blurred. _It's somehow _worse_ than having no sense of time having passed at all. There were...weeks? months?...when _something_ must have been going on. But it's all a _blur_.

"And then I sort of woke up, and I was here in this bed, and Allison had me bound and gagged and was making fun of me.

"She kept a gun trained on me whenever she had to take the gag out of my mouth. At first, I did risk trying to scream. But when I did that, she smacked me in the face with the gun, so hard I damn near passed out. And she never let me have more than one hand free, briefly - always the left, because I'm right-handed."

He shuddered. "Sometimes...sometimes she said that when she got around to it, she was going to...do what Margaret Cochran did to me. Just for kicks. But other times, she said she didn't understand what Margaret, or any woman, could have seen in me.

"At first she said she was 'waiting for Mitch.' Mitch Laurence. But later, she said he 'must have really gotten himself killed this time.' She didn't seem upset about it.

"And she insisted on reading to me. Driving me more nuts than I already was...

"I thought...well, at times I thought...that I was dead. In Hell. I only began thinking of all this as _real_ when she started talking about ransom. And babbling about killing me, and Tea, and...God knows how many other people.

"Even when she left, she said she was going to come back and kill me. When she could describe to me how she'd killed Tea."

Then he looked up, his eyes brimming with tears. "B-but...but...if it _is_ real...sh-shouldn't Allison have been in prison?"

x

x

x

If Victor had claimed a months-long gap in his memory - with the planning of a prison break among the things he'd "forgotten" - a year ago, when he and everyone else thought he was Todd Manning, John wouldn't have believed him.

But now? He knew Irene and her minions had blighted this man's entire life. And the same organization, minus Irene, had recently had him in their clutches again. Looking into those tortured eyes, he didn't doubt for a moment that Victor was sincere.

So he phrased his answer carefully. "There was a prison break a few weeks ago. You weren't the only person terrorized by an escapee, but you were the only one held for ransom.

"Mitch Laurence was the worst of the lot, and he _has_ been killed. Allison's the last one at large. Our people will take her down tonight, and the danger will be over.

"I can imagine how disturbing that gap in your memory must be. But you had a long, slow recovery from the gunshot wound, and you had to be heavily medicated. That probably accounts for it. Now that Allison can't torment you any more, you'll be feeling like your old self in no time."

He wasn't at all sure of that. He just hoped he could keep Victor stable long enough to get him home.

_**Should**__ I take him home? To a hospital? To St. Ann's? A case could even be made for arresting him._

_But what I want to do - what I __**intend**__ to do, if he doesn't turn into a raving lunatic - is deliver him to Tea._

As if he'd heard that thought, Victor resumed fretting about her. "I want to talk to Tea! Is she all right? Maybe she's worried about me."

"I need to make another call," John told him. "And then you can talk to her. Okay?"

"Okay. Does Tea know what's been happening to me? She may be worried. I'm worried about _her_..."

John got a little distance away from him. And made a quick call, not to Tea's cell phone, but to her brother's. "Tomas?" he said in a near-whisper. "Are you with Tea? ...

"Okay. Good news! I've recovered Victor. In Philly. He seems to be in reasonably good shape physically, but there are problems with his recent memory. He's confused, and easily upset. Can you warn Tea about that, before you put her on the line with him? And, uh, he almost certainly doesn't realize everyone's thought he was dead.

"The person holding him was Allison Perkins. I'd known that almost from the start. She'd left for Llanview by the time I got here. Apparently, no one else was involved. But from the things Victor's been saying about Allison, she may be more trigger-happy than I thought. I've decided we should have a disguised police officer - female, of course - carry that suitcase into Angel Square, rather than Tea herself."

He'd initially thought Allison might arrive early, hide - and take off, if the suitcase wasn't delivered by a recognizable Tea Delgado. But now that he knew she'd threatened to kill Tea, they couldn't take that risk. An officer wearing a bulletproof vest could probably pass for Tea, if she was accompanied by a recognizable Tomas.

John knew there was no way to keep _Tomas_ from putting himself in danger. The man lived for it.

Now he waited for the few moments it took Tomas to give Tea - who'd been just out of earshot at _his_ end - the good news, and the "warning," about her husband. Then she came on the line, crying, but deliriously happy. John walked over to Victor, handed him the phone, and politely drifted away.

He didn't mean to eavesdrop. Actually left the bedroom. But Victor _wasn't_ trying to keep his voice down, so he couldn't help getting the tenor of the conversation.

At first, Victor was overjoyed at hearing Tea's voice...but he was also frightened, and, with her, not even trying to hide his distress. The words poured out of him, a distraught confession of that gap - or "blur" that was worse than a gap - in his memory. The man whose arrogance had been acknowledged even by his loved ones now sounded like a lost, hurt child. Desperately in need of comfort and reassurance.

But whatever Tea said in response lifted his spirits. An initial long silence at his end was followed by replies like "You're sure? Oh yes, of course you are, it's been months!" and "Wonderful! I can hardly believe it. Yes, of course I'm happy! The happiest I've ever been in my life. Or in my freaking brother's life. I love you, _both_ of you, so much!"

John was finally smiling. _I know that word "both" wasn't meant to include his brother!_

Sure enough, when the phone call ended - everyone having agreed they'd talk again after they learned whether Allison had been captured - a more relaxed, closer-to-normal Victor proudly informed him, "Tea and I are expecting a baby!"

"Yeah, I knew." John was more relaxed as well. "Congratulations."

"Thanks. And, uh, thanks for coming to rescue me, too. I don't think I said it before."

_No, you didn't. But from you, I never expected it._

Victor hesitated for a moment, then said, "McBain...this baby business reminded me of something. Something I should have told you a long time ago. Before I was shot, I really had made up my mind to do it. But then I never had the chance.

"If you and Natalie don't already know...you're Liam's father."

"Thanks, Victor," John said casually. "But yeah, we learned that a while back. Got the good news from your sister Tina's dog."

_If we hadn't learned the truth about Liam, Natalie and I would never have reconciled. And I would have moved to Seattle..._

_Funny how things work out._

x

x

x

The reinvigorated Victor had decided on his own to take a shower. To the great relief of John, who'd been trying to think of a tactful way to suggest it.

Victor was actually humming in the shower.

_He's humming... Oh my God. Even __**him?**_

The theme music of _Fraternity Row_.

Shaking his head, John made a quick check of the closets, and confirmed that "Walker Laurence's" clothes were still there.

It was 11:00 p.m. A good time, he decided, to call Theo Price with the news about Victor, and his revised plan for the ransom drop. Price would probably be in Angel Square already. But he could still forward the order for a policewoman to go to Tea's house, with bulletproof vests for Tomas and herself.

It was taking a little longer than he'd expected for Price to pick up, when the cell phone should have been in his pocket...

And then, a voice that wasn't Price's said, "Yeah, John?"

_"Bo?_"

"Yep, it's me," Bo Buchanan replied. "I'm the, uh, new Police Commissioner. Finn practically begged me to come back. Frankly, she'd exhausted so many possibilities that I thought if I turned her down, she might offer the job to Tomas! And when I thought about him as _your boss_..."

John gulped. "I see what you mean. Great to have you back, Bo!"

"I won't know how great it is to _be_ back till I hear your report. What did you find in Philly?"

"Best possible outcome," John told him. "Victor's alive and reasonably well, at least physically. The kidnapper is Allison Perkins, like I thought. Working alone - she'd left for Llanview by the time I got here. She's undoubtedly armed. Oh, and Victor told me she's disguised as a man! Nothing as extreme as a fake mustache, but she's wearing masculine clothes and a watch cap, and has her hair cropped short."

He went on to explain why he'd recommend they take the precaution of having a policewoman impersonate Tea.

"Will do. We'll even fit her with a slight baby bump."

"Are _you_ in Angel Square, Bo?" That was where Price should have been, and he'd seemingly handed his phone to Bo when he saw who was calling.

"Yep. Always was a hands-on Commissioner, remember? But it's getting cold here, so I hope Perkins doesn't keep us waiting much past midnight.

"One thing more, John. How the hell did Victor come to be alive in the first place? Do _you_ know?"

"I think I have a pretty good idea," John told him. "Better than Victor does, at this point. Long story - I'll fill you in later. But it is still conjecture."

_And wait till you hear the followup, about him being the Liberator of Statesville!_

x

x

x

It had been agreed by all parties that given the lateness of the hour, John and Victor would spend the night in the hotel. John had told Victor that if he wanted to get out of that suite, with its bad memories, they could request other accommodations. But Victor felt that as long as Allison was gone, he'd have no problem with the suite. He'd willingly sleep in the same bed he'd been trapped in - wasn't even demanding a change of sheets.

_So that means_, John reflected, _I'll be sleeping in Allison's bed. The one she probably expected, at the outset, to be sharing with Mitch._

_Ugh._

But they wouldn't be sleeping for a while yet. They ordered a decidedly late dinner from room service - which was only prepared for them at that hour because their hosts were awed by John's supposed status with the FBI. They were still lingering over the wine when Bo called to tell them Allison had been apprehended, without a shot being fired.

Victor had a long, loving phone chat with Tea.

As did John with Natalie.

They drank some more wine.

And then Victor said, "Hey, McBain, I'm wondering about something. When Allison took that photo of me to send with the ransom demand...that must have been a real issue of the _Sun_. And I got the impression Todd really is wanted by the police for some reason.

"What's he wanted for?"

John was surprised by the question. "Well, uh, he just jumped bail. But he'd been arrested for, uh, what he did to _you_, of course! And a couple other crimes, that only seem 'minor' by comparison."

Victor gave a rueful sigh. "So it was Todd who ordered the hit on me? I'd sort of hoped it wasn't."

_"Ordered the hit?"_ John almost knocked his wineglass off the table.

Victor winced. "Wh-why are you looking at me like that?"

"There was no 'hit.' Todd shot you!"

"No, he didn't!" Victor's face had gone white. "Where the hell did you get an idea like that? He may have ordered the hit, but -"

"There was no 'hit,' I'm telling you! It was all Todd!"

"For Christ's sake, there's nothing wrong with my memory for _that_ part of my life. The shooter was standing right in front of me. Don't you think I would have recognized Todd?"

John was at a loss for words.

But suddenly, a stricken look came over Victor's face. "Oh my God. Did I...could I possibly...?"

_"What?_"

"Tea asked me who shot me," Victor said slowly. His eyes were wide with something like horror. "I tried to tell her, but I couldn't. When I've thought back on it, I didn't think I'd gotten a whole word out. But...did I say 'Todd'? Say enough to make Tea think I meant Todd had shot me? Was _that_ the only reason you arrested him?"

"No, no," John assured him. "All Tea heard was your trying to say a name starting with T. And Dani pointed out to her that you might not have understood the question - might just have been trying to say _her_ name. So she didn't even tell us about the 'letter T' thing till after Todd was arrested.

"He was known to have been in possession of the gun you were shot with. He made a clumsy attempt to frame someone else. And when we finally arrested him, he didn't try to deny it. He acted more as if he knew we'd be coming for him, sooner or later."

"I don't understand. He didn't do it!"

John took another approach. "You're saying Tea might have thought you'd said 'Todd.' Why would she have thought that, if you hadn't?"

"Because I actually _was_ trying to say 'Todd'! But that was just the first word. What I intended to say was 'Todd's friend.' "

John was stupefied. "You were trying to tell Tea you'd been shot by 'Todd's friend'?"

"Yes!"

Then Victor went on to say, apologetically, "I realize that wasn't much of a description. But I'd never bothered to learn the guy's name. I'd just seen his picture in the paper. The _Banner_, of course. _I_ wasn't interested in publishing fluff about people who were cozying up to Todd!"

"I still don't see -"

"Remember? Somebody - okay, it must have been Irene's people - had shot Todd, thought they'd killed him, and dumped him in the river. They didn't know he was wearing a bulletproof vest. But he was _stunned_, and he would have drowned if this guy didn't jump in the river and save him. A black guy."

Now it was John who was "stunned." "_Louie?_ You're saying _Louie_ shot you?"

"I told you, I never knew his name! His name could be Rumpelstiltskin, for all I know. But Viki put a photo of him and Todd in the _Banner_. And that was the guy who shot me."

There was no changing Victor's mind. He'd taken a stand, and he wouldn't budge.

Before a troubled John fell into bed at 2:00 a.m., he left a message in Bo Buchanan's voicemail. "News flash! Victor insists it was _Louie_ who shot him!"

x

x

x

At breakfast, John and Victor agreed not to wear themselves out discussing that problem. They were both eager to get back to Llanview.

While they were gathering up Victor's things, John couldn't help noticing that Allison had left many of her belongings in the closets. A disturbing sign that she really had intended to come back - and possibly kill Victor. He didn't mean to call Victor's attention to that. But it turned out he'd noticed it too.

Still, Victor managed a twisted smile. "One thing she did take was that damn manuscript she kept reading to me. Guess she wouldn't part with it even for a few hours! I think it was some nutty thing like a proposal for a new soap opera, based on Viki's life, to replace _Fraternity Row_.

"Will they let her keep it with her when they send her back to prison, do you think?"

"Sure. That's probably where she wrote it. A manuscript's harmless enough."

Victor made a face. "Harmless? I'm thinking about her poor cellmate. If _you'd_ had to listen to her reading it for hours on end, McBain, you'd understand. It's cruel and unusual punishment!"


	4. Chapter 4

Victor slept through most of the drive to Llanview.

That was fine with John. It allowed him time to think...about who the hell had really been responsible for shooting the guy.

_Suppose Todd did order a hit. He paid Louie to do it..._

There was a big problem with that. The murder attempt would have been premeditated, with Todd having had time to think - cold-bloodedly - about possible consequences. In that situation, he surely would have demanded the hit man provide his own gun. He never would have let him get his hands on one registered to Dorian, that could be traced back to her safe, and ultimately to _him_. Even if he'd expected a different gun would be used in the shooting, he wouldn't have risked giving Louie the traceable one.

_Try the other possibility. Suppose Todd was completely innocent. Louie shot Victor for reasons of his own, after Todd gave him the gun..._

There were problems with that, too. What motive would Louie have had? How would he have intended to kill Victor if Todd's gun hadn't fallen into his hands?

_Assume for the moment that Louie was someone else's hired hit man. And he had another gun he could have used..._

It still didn't work. Why would Todd have behaved as he did if he was innocent? He'd initially claimed he'd given his gun - not yet fired - to Louie. It was hard to believe Louie, on his own, had thought of framing Tomas and managed to plant the gun in his room. He'd probably never heard of Tomas! In any case, Tomas had gone missing _before_ Todd's gun was found in his room and determined to be the "murder weapon." Todd's cell phone history told John _he_ was having Tomas held prisoner. And he'd had him forced to make a bogus "confession" - the enforcer being, of all people, the vicious Malcolm Baker.

Todd's actions seemed to indicate that he'd known his gun was the "murder weapon" sooner than he should have known, if someone other than he had fired it. Louie could have told him...but why?

Those actions were criminal in themselves, and spoke volumes about Todd's character.

_The only possible excuse: Suppose he knew for a fact that Tomas was behind the attack on Victor, but had covered his tracks so well that he could only be brought to justice by "framing" him..._

Impossible. Tomas was a trained assassin! If he'd wanted Victor dead, he wouldn't have hired Louie. He would have done the deed himself, probably with his bare hands.

And when Todd was arrested, he hadn't insisted he was innocent. He'd acted like a guilty man who'd known all along - fatalistically - that he'd ultimately be found out. Perhaps that was _why_ the frame had been so clumsy, Tomas's imprisonment a stopgap measure that obviously couldn't have gone on forever. Todd had been like the boy sticking his finger in a hole in a dike - knowing, on some level, that it wasn't a long-term solution, and he wouldn't be able to come up with one.

_I have to consider another possibility. What if Victor's memory is screwed up, and Todd __**was**__ the shooter? Victor thought he was telling me the truth, but he can never be trusted, because he is what he is..._

More problems. Victor was perfectly sane. He was only unreliable when his actions - or, yes, his memories - were being affected by the Manning-Baker Mob's programming. They'd had access to him when they snatched him after his supposed "death." So when they programmed him to impersonate Walker Laurence again, they _could_ also have programmed him to protect Todd if he was ever in a position to do so.

But _why_ would they have done that? Todd had never been their ally. They'd substituted Victor for him, back in 2003, because he hadn't been a person they could manipulate.

Todd and Baker had joined forces recently. But Baker had been working for Todd, not the reverse. He'd undoubtedly taken on the job just to pick up some pin money ("pin money" by the standards of the very wealthy). He would have been shrewd enough to keep evidence of Todd's involvement, so he could blackmail him in the future.

But could Baker have foreseen that when he was overseeing the reprogramming of Victor? Foreseen that Todd would seek _him_ out, to hold someone prisoner?

It struck John as highly unlikely.

And whenever he thought in detail about Victor's programming, he was reminded that there was still another unsolved puzzle. He'd put together enough pieces to assure Allison's capture - and possibly, save both Victor's and Tea's lives. But he still couldn't fathom _why_ the Mob would have wanted to free either Mitch Laurence alone, or Mitch Laurence and a "cast of hundreds."

He continued mulling over the twin dilemmas, shooting and prison break, throughout the drive to Llanview.

By the time he pulled up in front of Victor's house, he believed he had the answer to one of them.

x

x

x

He delivered a weeping Victor into the arms of his wife. And even as she held him, rocked him, and murmured sweet nothings to him - in Spanish - her eyes were fixed on John's.

Those eyes told him, as clearly as if she'd spoken, _I understand that he'll need help. It's okay - I'm on board for the long haul. Just let me take care of him._

John signaled Tomas that he needed to talk to him in private. Then he explained quickly, "You'll have to let Tea know this. Victor did something while he was away - something seriously illegal - that he doesn't even remember."

"Shit. Did he kill anyone?"

"Uh...not directly."

"Oh, _that's_ encouraging!"

"Look, I just have to warn you. Bo gave me permission to bring Victor home, but he doesn't know about this other thing yet.

"I'll try to talk him out of arresting Victor. If it came to a trial, Tea could surely get him acquitted on grounds of diminished capacity. But the ordeal that would precede that might leave him more damaged than he already is."

Tomas sighed. "Okay. Thanks for the heads-up."

John didn't have to ask whether he'd be sticking around.

The men shook hands. Parted as friends.

But as John drove on toward the station, he thanked his lucky stars Tomas _wouldn't_ be sticking around as his boss.

x

x

x

Two hours later - after a long lunch with Bo, during which all that was explainable had been explained - John was ready for his next challenge.

After hearing the full story, Bo had promised to try to prevent Victor's being linked to the prison break. He'd made a quick call to Richard Evans - with whom he shared an infant grandson - and learned that Evans hadn't yet told anyone else what John had told him. They'd agreed to keep it to themselves, and let the record show that the prison break had been instigated by Walker Laurence...who'd turn out to be a _very_ elusive fugitive. If the truth ever did come to light, there'd be no proof they'd known all along.

As for Fish's promotion, it was already in the works.

And John - with Bo's consent - was once again face to face with the man who still knew more than he did.

Malcolm Baker.

"I hear you've had another 'great triumph,' " Baker said snidely. "Brought about the capture of the last of the escaped convicts - a puny woman! Congratulations."

"Believe me," John told him, "I'd rather be sending _you_ to prison, to do life without parole.

"But..." He looked steadily into the other man's eyes. "We both know that's not going to happen. The CIA will pluck you out of here any day now, and you'll be free as a bird."

"True."

"So there's no reason for you _not_ to tell me whether a theory of mine is correct."

"I suppose you're going to force me to listen to it." Baker sounded bored.

John knew he wasn't.

"I don't think I'll have to force you.

"To begin with, let's go all the way back to last March. It was your people who tried to kill Victor then, right? Because there were signs the programming you'd done was weakening. Nothing major - he still believed he was Todd Manning - but some of his decisions weren't going the way you wanted, and you saw that as a dangerous sign.

"And of course, if you killed him, Irene would have inherited his estate."

Baker was trying to keep his face an expressionless mask. But he hadn't expected John to know a will with that provision had been in place that long ago. His eyes gave it away.

And he knew it. So he said sarcastically, "True. And we would have succeeded in killing him, if not for you and Tomas. The two of you seem to spend a lot of time protecting a man you dislike!"

"Yeah, ain't that a bitch?" John let himself smile.

But then he pounced. "And it was you guys who tried again in August!

"Yeah, I know. Irene was in jail, you in Federal custody, when the shooting took place. But you'd begun setting things in motion when Todd escaped. And at clutch time, your agents on the scene improvised well.

"They saw the publicity about that homeless guy, Louie, having saved Todd's life. So they offered him more money than he'd ever imagined, to kill Victor. The reason they chose to go that way, rather than do it themselves? They thought the killer might be seen, or Victor might live long enough to tell someone who'd done it. If it was Louie, that 'new friend' of Todd's, the obvious guess would be that Todd had hired him. So you guys might, in a way, be killing two birds with one stone. Getting rid of Victor and Todd.

"Instead, something happened that no one could have foreseen. When Louie was leaving after having shot Victor, he spotted Todd arriving, with a gun in his own hand! Louie thought fast. Hid, and waited to see what Todd would do. When he backed out quickly after finding the body, it must have been obvious he'd panicked, and hadn't called 9-1-1. So Louie followed him. Caught up with him while Todd was contemplating throwing _his_ gun in the river...and talked him into giving it to him.

"That was in the evening, and the autopsy on Victor wasn't going to be performed till the next day. So your agents had plenty of time to set up what they did next.

"They butted in on the procedure that was expected to be an autopsy, posing as the real CIA. So they could _switch bullets, _without the medical examiner's realizing it! They replaced the one removed from Victor with one from Todd's gun, so that would appear to be the murder weapon. They'd fired the bullet through something, so it'd be properly deformed. Hell, they may even have killed a stray cat with it. The police wouldn't run forensic tests - we'd never doubt the bullet sent us by the ME was the right one.

"Everyone was surprised when the ME discovered the jostling before that intended autopsy had started Victor's brain and heart working again. The phony 'CIA' guys realized it would be fairly easy to fake his death, with the stipulations he'd been programmed to put in place, in case Irene ever wanted to snatch him. So they pressured the ME into going along with it.

"I'm guessing they figured the main reason Irene had wanted him dead, aside from claiming his estate, was that his programming seemed to be wearing off. If they kept him alive - in your group's facility, under your control - you'd have the option of reprogramming him.

"Meanwhile, Todd had been traumatized by finding the body. If he'd gotten there first and started waving his gun around, Victor might well have talked him down. But as it was, he knew he'd gone there _intending_ to kill Victor. He'd seen the body. And he hadn't called 9-1-1.

"He was so haunted by guilt feelings that he came to believe he _had_ killed Victor.

"Your people had undoubtedly told Louie to turn Todd's gun in to the police. But he was either having regrets, or saw a way to make more money. He wound up either giving or selling the gun back to Todd - who, by then, believed it _was_ the murder weapon.

"Todd had wanted to make a fresh start after surviving his ordeal with you. But now he - like Victor before him, in other ways - went on to do some rotten things because he thought he'd _already_, in his case recently, shown himself to be a man who did rotten things."

Baker feigned a yawn. "Are you through?"

"Drop the act, Baker," John said calmly. "I can read you pretty well. And I know everything I said was on the mark."

Baker shrugged. "Of course it was. Took you long enough to figure it out, though."

"Believe it or not, we do have other things to think about here. Other crimes, other criminals."

"I'm sure you do. But you know what, McBain?" Baker leaned forward, and his sudden smile showed his teeth. "I can read you too. And I was struck by something you didn't say.

"You didn't ask me where Louie is now. Whether he's happily enjoying his ill-gotten gains, or sleeping with the fishes.

"And the reason you didn't ask is that you'd trusted him, and wound up being disillusioned. Deep down, you _hope_ we killed him! But you're ashamed to admit that, even to yourself."

After a long silence, John said tightly, "Go to hell."

Baker chuckled.

John took a deep breath, and tried to recoup. "_Personally_, I don't give a damn where Louie is. But if he still has the brain he was born with, he knows better than to hang around Llanview.

"And speaking of brains...where were _yours_ when you decided that prison break would be a good idea? I can't see where it got you a damn thing."

He was guessing Baker hadn't realized the police knew about his organization's probable role in that.

If Baker was surprised, he didn't show it. "That may be true. An accident of timing. I had the misfortune to be _detained_ here when I should have been meeting someone. But I hadn't invested much in the project. No great loss."

At one and the same time, John was appalled by the man's callousness, and encouraged by his willingness to admit involvement.

"So you admit you reprogrammed Victor Lord Jr., to make him impersonate Walker Laurence again?" John was recording the interview, just in case. If Victor ever should have to face charges, Baker's taped admission might help.

But Baker raised his eyebrows. "No," he said casually. "This time we made him believe he really _was_ Walker Laurence. And genuinely wanted to help his brother Mitch."

John hadn't been prepared for that. "Wh-what? How could you do that? I know you and Irene convinced him he was Todd Manning, years ago. But you had the real Todd Manning - could somehow 'copy' his essence into Victor, using drugs and hypnosis. Walker Laurence has been dead for years!"

"Different situation." Baker was relaxed, savoring the memory. "He didn't have to really _be_ much like the real Walker Laurence - just believe that was who he was, and know the necessary background. We'd researched that years ago, so he could impersonate Laurence.

"If we'd gotten him back at the end of the operation, I might have decided to reinforce the programming, keep him in the Walker Laurence identity, and train him to be one of my agents."

John couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"But the initial programming had to be quick-and-dirty," Baker continued. By now he was obviously enjoying the effect all this was having on John. "I only decided to try it in mid-November. And from the scuttlebutt I've heard around here today, I gather it wore off. Then he reverted to his true identity, gave it away to the person he was with - and either blacked out, or was so confused and bewildered that he was, briefly, as helpless as a baby. That was a calculated risk I was taking."

A bemused John shook his head. "Why was Mitch Laurence so important to you, anyway?"

"Mitch Laurence?" Baker smirked. "You really _don't_ know much, do you? Mitch Laurence wasn't important at all! What would I want with a megalomaniac who thought he was God's Messenger?"

"But why -"

"Mitch Laurence was just our way in. The convict we could access through someone he and everyone else would accept as his brother.

"The convict who'd be sure to _bring_ us the one I really wanted. Allison Perkins."

"For God's sake..." John was glad he'd been sitting all this time. If he hadn't, his legs might have gone out from under him. "Why did you want _Allison Perkins?_"

"I was interested in a manuscript she'd written. I'd heard a lot about it. An unauthorized biography of Victoria Lord, that's also a chronicle of Llanview over the years."

John felt his jaw drop.

After a long beat, he said, "Let me get this straight. You're saying you did all this - brainwashed Victor all over again, orchestrated a prison break that unleashed two hundred dangerous criminals on a city, wound up with two good people dead and three more who easily could have died - just so you could _read a manuscript?_"

Baker gave an exasperated snort. "Of course not, you idiot. I might not even have bothered to read the damn thing.

"Perkins had finished writing it early in November. People are being released from prisons all the time, and word leaks out...

"What I intended was to kill her, and do what she'll surely be doing within the next few days, even if she has to do it from a prison cell. Submit the book to a publisher. I was going to claim I was the author - because everyone who _has_ read it says it's a surefire bestseller!"

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The End


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